Remember last week when I was feeling all calm and confident? And I promised to keep you posted about my mental state in the coming days? Well, here it is folks, the much-anticipated mental status report wherein I confidently assure you that I am once again totally and completely batshit insane over this test.
It happened sometime between Friday afternoon and Sunday morning, though I suspect that Matt would report that it’s been happening slowly but surely since I started studying in June. But Friday afternoon at about 4:45pm, a kind woman announced over the library’s loudspeaker system that the library would be closing in 15 minutes. I shit you not, tears welled up in my eyes as I felt the weight of the stress of having to move to a different locale settle somewhere between my shoulders and my brain. And then Saturday afternoon, as it became increasingly apparent that I can’t, in fact, read in a moving car (um, perhaps the fact that I’ve been getting carsick since I was a child should have given this away, but no, I tried anyway), I actually felt grateful for the 90 minutes spent in the waiting room of a Subaru dealership, where Julie’s car had been towed and was getting a new alternator and several new belts. Sitting in that air-conditioned waiting room meant I got to read an extra 10 pages of Civil Procedure.
And Sunday, oh Sunday. Sunday I woke up feeling antsy, angry at myself for getting 8 hours of sleep. And when Matt expressed frustration over an undeniably frustrating experience at IKEA, I had to consciously remind myself that without Matt, I wouldn’t be able to afford to take all this time to study for this stupid test, let alone have food and shelter. After I’d calmed myself the F down, I walked back into the kitchen and looked sadly at Matt’s eyes, which were smiling at me despite the fact that I’d recently turned myself into a she-devil. “It’s happening,” I told him. “I know,” he said. “I don’t want chicken for dinner,” I said tearfully into his neck as he hugged me. “Okay,” he said, “that’s good to know. I’ll call you before I head to the grocery store.” I nodded as he hugged me, hugged me despite the fact that it was no less than 110 degrees inside our apartment, despite the fact that my wet hair was dripping all over his face, smudging his glasses.
I left our apartment a few minutes later to walk to the coffee shop that’s been my home-away-from home for the past couple of weeks. It’s full of weirdos and nerds and a quiet hum of conversation that’s more interesting than what you overhear in Starbucks. On the way, despite the fact that I feel horrible about my body these days, despite my general commitment to eat organic, I stopped at CVS and bought fig newtons, a box of cheez-its, some gummy bears, and a bottle of smart water (you know, just in case). My stomach already hurts from the cheez-its, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to eat dinner until at least 10pm tonight. On the downside, I’ll feel guilty for taking a break to eat it. On the upside, dinner will not include chicken.
And for those of you keeping score at home: the guy who hangs out at this same coffee shop who brings with him a stuffed animal that bears a creepy resemblance to a raccoon, yeah, THAT guy just sat down next to me. It’s going to be a long 9 days.